


oh darling, now's the time

by murdork



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, mention of ms grundy and that goes hand in hand w a Not Good relationship so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 02:13:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9636320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murdork/pseuds/murdork
Summary: It's not fireworks, but it's pretty close.





	

**Author's Note:**

> praying 2 fuck i got the characterization right

He's not really sure if it's just a him thing or an everyone else thing but Archie doesn't actually mind the rain. Not in a sappy, romantic way– he really just doesn't care either way. 

Usually. 

When he's trying to find his best friend after he ran off, in the rain, it gets a bit more complicated. His jacket's soaked through, he can barely see five feet in front of him, and he's considering just going back into Pop's and finishing the milkshake he'd ordered before all this happened. Except he can't do that because it's Jughead and in their whole lifetime of friendship he's never left him behind. At least, not on purpose. 

He falters a bit in his sprint, stopping in an ankle-deep puddle. They're past that. They're trying. He's trying. Which is exactly why he's ruining his favourite pair of shoes. 

They haven't actually talked about it really– every time Archie tries to Jughead shuts him down with a retort about threatened masculinity– but maybe tonight's the night. 

If he manages to find him, that is. There's only a handful of places he could be and Pop's is off the list, so that leaves his house, the place by the river, and– oh. It's obvious now where he is. 

Archie pivots, leaving waves in the puddle, as he heads to the one place he knows Jughead will be. 

There aren't any lights on at the Jones' residence– granted, he knows it's pretty late and they weren't expecting Jughead home– so he doesn't feel too guilty in vaulting over the fence that connects the backyard to the street. There's no light to guide his way but Archie would know this place blindfolded. He makes his way to the back trees, trying to find the one with a rope ladder attached to it. 

Just as he's about to climb up, he steps on one of Hot Dog's chew toys. The telltale squeak makes him wince, and it only gets louder as he takes his foot off. 

The quiet treehouse seems to taunt him. Archie waits, for once hesitating. The rain hasn't let up once and he's hoping, hoping, hoping that for once Jughead's merciful. 

"Well," a wavering voice calls out from above, "are you gonna come up here or get soaked some more?" 

The ladder feels unfamiliar under his feet; he hasn't been here since the last day of freshman year. When he pokes his head through the entrance, it's just as small as he remembers it. It might be marginally larger with the way Jughead's pressed himself into the corner, knees to his chest. In the light of a cheap lantern they bought when they were twelve, Archie can catch a hint of a blush left over from what must've been a near-record breaking sprint from Pop's. 

"So," Jughead starts, voice thin. "What brings you here?" He cracks a grin that only pulls up one side of his mouth. This is the grin he shows the secretary when he shows up late, or Reggie when he's two seconds away from a black eye. It's not the smile Archie knows, or wants to know. 

"I could ask you that." He thinks about his cold plate of fries. "There's two melting milkshakes back at Pop's, you know." 

Jughead stiffens like he did before he booked it out of the diner just an hour before. There's nowhere he can really go here, though, not with Archie still blocking the entrance with his uncertainty. He shrugs, not looking up. 

"Well, you know, some of us have curfews, pal." Jughead's curfew is in twenty minutes, and it's never been applied when it's just them. "Not like you've ever been too concerned with the rules, I guess." He tacks it on under his breath. 

Archie bristles at his airy tone. It feels like before they'd made up. The thing with Jughead is he'll never say what it is he's looking for in a conversation. He'll just keep taunting until he reaches a conclusion. 

"What rule have I broken?" He can't help the defensive nature of his voice, he just ran around town in the pouring rain and isn't looking to solve any of Jughead's riddles. 

Jughead laughs. Again, it's not his real laugh. It seems to say, you know nothing about me, Archie Andrews. Even if you thought you did. "You said you weren't going to talk about it anymore. At least, not with me." 

In true upset-Jughead fashion, it reveals absolutely nothing about why he's upset. 

Archie suppresses an eye roll. "Talk about what, Jughead?" 

If possible, Jughead shrinks a little more. There's a few painful moments where the only noise is their breathing and a distant siren. Finally, Jughead speaks. "The whole-" he stops, biting the inside of his mouth. "Ms. Grundy thing. The TILF. Or, I guess, Teacher you'd like to–" 

"Stop!" Archie cuts him off. "That's, that's over. And it's not like that." There's a sick feeling in his stomach. "Trust me, Jug, it's not like that." 

Jughead exhales, his whole self seeming to rattle with it. "Then why'd you bring it up? We had a deal." 

Archie thinks back to that first night at Pop's, where he'd set aside his romantic entanglements and Jughead had closed his laptop. "You ran out because I brought up Ms Grundy? Oh." He's not sure what to say.

"Yeah. Oh." Jughead pulls off his hat, threading fingers through dark hair. 

They fall silent again. The sirens wail again. Sheriff Keller's upped his parole since July 4th, not taking any chances. It taints the night. Not like it was very happy to begin with, but. 

He has to think about it a little more before bringing it up again. "I didn't think it was a big deal. We're not, you know, doing anything anymore. You were right, about her, it wasn't... I didn't matter to her." It hurts to admit it, but when the dust of his confession settled, he knew the truth about their relationship. Or lack of it. 

"Obviously you wouldn't think it's a big deal. You don't–" He balls the hat in his hands up, tensing and untensing. "Nevermind." 

"I don't what?" 

Jughead uncurls his knees from his body, not relaxing per se, just... no longer so overprotective. He won't look at Archie, but he catches the shine in his eyes. "You don't know the way I–" He chokes, mouth snapping shut. 

Archie wants to extend a hand, or something, to get him to stop looking like that. He wishes he'd done it sooner. The circles under his eyes haven't let up since the start of the year and there's no way it's just because of his excessive writing.

He doesn't. Instead, he prods some more. "The way you..?" 

In an instant Archie knows he's prodded too much. Jughead's hands convulse around the hat, leaving his knuckles white. The morose expression he'd so wanted off his face is replaced with something bitter.

"Wow, Archie, Betty's right, you really are blind." Jughead says, deep and cutting. It's reminiscent of a few weeks before.

Archie frowns. "Am I missing something here? I thought we were past all this mysterious, speaking in tongues stuff. What's Betty got to do with this?" 

"Are you missing something? Somebody give golden-boy a medal! He's finally caught up. Of course you're missing something." He throws his hands up, hat discarded to some corner. His eyes have dried, and they're alight with something spiteful. It makes Archie's chest tighten. 

Jughead stills and looks down at his hands, hair covering his eyes. His voice is hoarse with frustration that Archie doesn't understand. "I just... at first I thought maybe you were ignoring it, for the sake of us–" he clears his throat, "I mean, our friendship. But then you bring her and them up all the time and you really don't know, do you?" 

Archie's head is spinning. His mouth feels clumsy around his words. "Know what?" 

Time both speeds up and stops when the words leave his mouth. Slowly– or quickly– Jughead looks up and suddenly Archie can feel just how small the treehouse is. There's no room between them suddenly, and Jughead's eyes are on his then flicker down. And then suddenly– or not at all suddenly– they're kissing. There aren't any fireworks because that's a cliché– and Jughead's lips are too chapped and pressing too lightly on his own for fireworks– but it's pretty close to perfect. 

Jughead breaks away first, his hands still weaved in Archie's hair. Archie follows him, resting their forehead's together.

Jughead is breathless, wide eyes staring into Archie's. "That. You weren't supposed to know that." 

Archie grins. "Juggie," he starts, pressing another quick kiss to his lips. "I really don't mind knowing."

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this listening exclusively to a playlist my friend made??? if u love jughead/archie u should check it out bc it Messes Me Up http://8tracks.com/jazzkjd/wearing-my-heart-like-a-crown there u go it's Perfect


End file.
